


Sherlock Chatter

by sherlockian4evr



Series: Let's Embarrass Lestrade [3]
Category: Sherlock (TV)
Genre: Attempt at humour, Be Careful What You Wish For, Established Johnlock, John and Sherlock's sex life - sort of, M/M, Sherlock admires John's body, Sherlock ponders the use of expletives, Sherlock talks too much, embarrassed!Greg
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2015-09-10
Updated: 2015-09-10
Packaged: 2018-04-20 02:14:27
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,018
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/4769738
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/sherlockian4evr/pseuds/sherlockian4evr
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>For the prompt:</p><p>Lestrade complaining at some point that he and Sherlock never actually talk about things that aren't crime related so Sherlock starts telling him about his sex life with John and Lestrade regrets everything.</p>
            </blockquote>





	Sherlock Chatter

Sherlock folded himself into one of the chairs in Greg's office. They were awaiting the results of a ballistics report, the outcome of which would either prove or disprove Sherlock's theory. (It would prove it, of course.) Greg regarded Sherlock's silent form. Unless Sherlock was running through rapid-fire deductions, he was always silent while they waited for this sort of information. It irritated Greg to no end. 

"We never talk anymore," Greg stated sarcastically.

Sherlock steepled his hands beneath his chin and shot Greg a withering glare. "We don't 'talk', Lestrade. We work cases together."

Greg leaned back in his chair, folded his hands behind his head and propped his feet up on his desk. "That's my point, you berk. After all that we've been through together, you would think that we could have a normal conversation." Greg shot Sherlock one of his winning grins. It was, of course, completely lost on Sherlock. "You know, like people do?"

Slowly, Sherlock relaxed. He almost melted into his chair. Greg thought that it was an interesting transformation. This was a Sherlock Holmes that Greg had seen very rarely. In fact, it had been years since Sherlock had deigned to unbend so completely in his presence. Greg chalked up Sherlock's willingness to unwind to John's influence. It was good that Sherlock finally had a proper friend. 

A beatific smile lit up Sherlock's countenance. It made Greg somewhat uneasy. He had never seen the expression on Sherlock's face before. 

"He's magnificent, Greg. You wouldn't know it for all of those horrid jumpers he insists on wearing, but his muscles are well-defined. I don't know why he insists on concealing his physique." Sherlock's neck had grown slightly flushed as he talked and there was an uncharacteristic gleam his eyes. 

"That's not exactly..." Greg tried to cut him off, but as usual, there was no stopping Sherlock Holmes mid-speech.

"The first time he carried me into the bedroom and threw me down, I got so hard that I begged him to 'fuck' me. Can you imagine, Lestrade? Not only did I beg, but my verbal grace completely deserted me." Sherlock appeared genuinely amazed by what he had described. He sat forward, rested his elbows on his knees and continued talking excitedly. "Have you ever been fucked, Lestrade?" Sherlock's look turned introspective. "Interesting. There appears to be a place for the use of expletives after all. No other single word conveys quite the same meaning as 'fuck'. For example, 'Penetrate me harshly, John' just sounds ridiculous."

Greg dropped his feet to the floor and stood. "I think I'll just fetch a cup of coffee." He stepped to his door and opened it, hoping that Sherlock would have forgotten the whole discussion by the time he got back. As if. Greg moaned when he heard Sherlock's voice coming from just behind him.

"Cock, dick and prick are quite surprisingly serviceable as are arse and come," Sherlock observed, seemingly oblivious.

Greg whirled where he stood, almost as fast as Sherlock had been known to. Sherlock ran straight into Greg's outstretched hand and was forced to back into Greg's office once more. 

"Sherlock! For Christ's sake, that's enough!" Greg knew that Sherlock had no verbal filter, but honestly, this was too much. Sherlock blinked at him slowly and then his mouth made a perfect 'O'. Whatever it was that Sherlock had deduced, Greg was certain that it involved him somehow. He moved to hide behind his desk, though it would offer little in the way of protection from Sherlock's inevitable onslaught.

"I'm making you uncomfortable," Sherlock announced, making perhaps his most unperceptive deduction ever. "It's because you haven't come to terms with your own sexuality, an issue newly arisen since your divorce." That deduction was a bit more insightful, if not completely accurate. 

"Yes, I'm bi. Ta for asking," Greg said sardonically. "But it hasn't caused me any sleepless nights in decades." Decades. Greg sank wearily into his chair. "I'm too old for this shit - trying to find a woman or man to come home to. And you with your... indecent enthusiasm. Well, you're not helping matters."

"You're still good looking, Lestrade. I'd fuck you myself if I wasn't fucking John." Sherlock pondered. "If John were amenable, I'd fuck you anyway."

Greg considered crawling under his desk, but decided against it. His face was flaming red. There had been a time that he would have been glad of Sherlock's interest, but that was long ago. "I'm not interested in a casual fling, Sherlock, though I am flattered."

Sherlock hesitated only a moment then snatched up a biro and scratched out a mobile number on Greg's desk pad. "The British Government," Sherlock said simply. "Call him." Sherlock plunked himself back into a chair and smiled wickedly. "Did I mention how lucious John's arse is? And his cock. It's simply delicious. I could suck him off for hours. I would suggest you try it, but then I would have to kill you."

Greg was considering the merits of strangling Sherlock. He seriously thought that ending his career and earning jail time might just be worth it.

Sally stuck her head into his office waving a folder. "Ballistics are in."

"Oh, thank God." Greg knew that would shut the lanky git up quite nicely.

Sherlock snatched the folder from Sally's hand and flicked it open. "Yes!" He made a fist pump. "It was the sister."

As Sherlock did a little dance around the office, Greg leaned close to Sally and whispered in her ear, "Remind me to never try to get him to have a normal conversation." She regarded him curiosly. "Really. Punch me, kick me. Whatever. Just don't let me try to get him to talk."

"Happily, Sir."

Sally looked entirely too pleased with the prospect of punching Greg. No matter. Greg was so over this whole 'talking to Sherlock' thing. A punch in the gut would be a small price to pay to avoid another embarrassing conversation like the last one. His eyes strayed to the pad on his desk. Well, maybe it had been worth it after all.


End file.
